


Haircut

by weapon13WhiteFang



Series: I would like to reach out my hand (send me on my way) [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Fluff, Haircuts, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:47:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23697214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weapon13WhiteFang/pseuds/weapon13WhiteFang
Summary: The only way for her to survive was to cut off all her hair.OrBeth knows it’s not practical to keep her hair long and now her sentimental decision has consequences.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Beth Greene, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene
Series: I would like to reach out my hand (send me on my way) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706608
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> Got this prompt from promptslair on tumblr and thought I’d try it out. Seemed pretty simple but fun… Also I’ve been listening to Hair and Hairspray (and lots of musicals honestly) so maybe I have a hair thing going on idk, we’re in weird times don’t judge me and just roll with it!

For as long as Beth could recall, she had been growing out her hair. By the time she was seven it was down past her shoulder. It would never be any longer than to her waist but it would never be cut above her shoulder blades.

When the world first ended, Patricia had trimmed it for her. Patricia had cut hair for years and when Beth’s hair was getting unruly, the world had fallen. So the woman had kindly trimmed and helped tame it for her. And Beth would keep it up – as she always did – and in braids like her mama – wandering around in the barn… Gone – had loved to see her wear it and used to do for Beth when she was little.

She loved her hair. Loved the color, the length, the thickness of it, and how much she could do with it. Sure it could be a hassle when the weather was so hot and humid and her hair was sticking to her like flies to glue paper, but in the winter it helped keep her head and neck warm… So everything balanced out… Okay, well, maybe not everything.

The worst part about her hair was that it would get caught on things and no amount of positive thinking could balance that problem out… In fact – during that first winter on the run with all of them – more than once she had to be saved by Carol yanking her free of thorn bushes or Lori gently helping untangle what was the equivalent of a bird’s nest out of her hair.

Both women had offered to cut it down for her – Maggie had even chimed in that she would help more than once – but Beth just couldn’t do it. She would let them cut out excessively wild knots or too stuck twigs and clumps, but she just couldn’t bring herself to chop it all off…

This was certainly some kind of punishment for not being practical over sentimental.

Raiding a drug store had been a risk. Daryl hadn’t needed to say it, but it was a risk and Beth had known that… But they were dangerously low on supplies and they’d stumbled upon a small town with a sign saying “ _Welcome to Friendship Georgia”_. Beth had never heard of the place, but a map stashed in one of the cars they’d looted awhile back had told her they were definitely almost out of the state of Georgia…

Many of the shops along the main street had broken windows and doors wide open. They had only run into two walkers meandering about – a kid about her age wearing a vest for “Whipstaff Beef” and sadly a little boy probably only seven or so that Beth had to look away from as Daryl put him down and fight back memories of poor little walker Sophia – before they were cautiously hitting shops. From an old TV repair shop to a men and women salon and even a small fitness gym, they’d picked through and grabbed things they could use until they’d made it to a drug store at the end of the street.

There hadn’t been a sound or sign of trouble, even with Daryl doing his usual whistle and smack of the door, that prepared them for making it deep into the drug store… Only for Beth to stupidly open a back door without double checking and having a small herd of walkers come barreling out and at her, grabbing with dead and dirty hands.

Hands that got tangled in her hair as she’d turned to run and cried out – “Daryl!” – and they kept a firm grip on her hair that was so tight that she felt like her scalp was being ripped as she tried to pull herself free. Her hair was longer than she’d ever had it, the ends were grasped tightly in a female walker’s boney and long nailed fingers with broken remains of a nice manicure.

“Beth!” Daryl came barreling her way, tears springing to her eyes as she tried to squirm away, the small hoard pushing at her as she slashed wildly, trying to cut the walker away from her and not fall because if she fell over they’d overpower her completely and she’d be dead-

_Shhllunkk!_

Beth felt the moment Daryl’s blade had cut through rotting flesh and brittle bone that was still strong enough to grasp her with immense strength. She only hears the sound before she’s being hauled by her arm and dragged wildly out by Daryl as the hoard pushed completely free of the back room and descend on the shop, making for the two of them.

They’re running wildly, Beth barely able to keep up with Daryl’s heavy strides until suddenly – just as she thinks they’re heading back for the woods – a hoard comes stumbling out of the woods. Somehow they’d descended, coming out of nowhere and causing Daryl and Beth to skid and bolt for the nearest safety they could spot… An old abandoned gas station with a repair shop attached to the side.

Daryl’s shoving her into the car bay before they’re both roughly pulling the garage door down, slamming it in time for a walker arm to be taken off by the sliding old metal and the sound enough to draw more their way.

“Can’t stay here,” Daryl growled, pushing to the back and Beth followed him, pure adrenaline lighting her up like a firework show on the Fourth of July.

Daryl pushes until he finds the back door of the shop but it’s jammed and Beth has to help slam against it until it comes open. To the right, there’s a set of stairs that leads to above the store and shop. She doesn’t have time to question if it’s where they should go before Daryl is motioning her wildly up the stairs and she’s following him up in time to hear that the garage door is being severly pushed on behind her and glass is breaking.

Up the stairs, luck is on their side as the door opens easily enough and Beth is stumbling inside with Daryl and he’s shutting the door. They don’t have time to even ponder if the place is safe before they’re shoving furniture in front of the door until only a small loveseat and broken side table are left and they’re panting wildly, Beth shaking so hard her teeth rattle as the Walkers break through into the downstairs

**…**

The adrenaline doesn’t necessarily leave her, but she is able to calm down a little as she hears the walkers banging about downstairs and peaks outside to see a few stumble out the back door they left open. She’s startled to note how many she sees and can’t help but be grateful once again that she’s always been a fast runner and that Daryl is the one she got free from the prison with…

When it didn’t seem like the walkers were going to make it up to them or that they were going to be able to get away any time soon, Beth allowed herself to slowly relax and press her face against the glass of the window, absently watching walkers stumble about. 

Now that her adrenaline isn’t pumping wildly, Beth realizes that her head hurts from where the walker had yanked at the roots. She winces and reaches up to gently touch her head, noting that she can feel that a decent chunk of her hair has been pulled from the roots.

Gently, Beth ran her hand down the back of her hair and touched her ponytail, feeling some of the strands had definitely come loose and her braids were tugged pretty tight as well. Slowly her hand inched down to feel along when-

Beth has to rely on every ounce of survival skills she’s learned when she fights down the need to scream bloody murder and jerks her hand away from her hair, frantically making for a bathroom and almost knocking Daryl over.

Finding a restroom - with thankfully a window that’s letting in some light - Beth uses the mirror and slowly pulls her hair up and almost gags and whines as she comes to… A hand. A walker hand tangled tightly in her hair!

When Daryl had cut the walker off her… The hand that had been holding her had stayed. And now a chunk of her hair was being held in a literal death grip of a female walkers hand!

“Beth? The Hell…” Daryl’s voice trails off and Beth turns to look at him, feeling like she’s going to puke.

She must look like she’s going to because Daryl eyes her warily and keeps space between them, as if he’s ready to bolt away from her any second. His eyes are on her face and flick to the walker hand tangled up in her hair and his lips tick into a deep frown, brow furrowed as he meets her eyes before slowly coming forward.

“Can you… Get it out?” Beth asks, trying her best to not cry because she said she wouldn’t cry anymore and this was certainly not something to cry over… Even if she really wanted to.

Daryl hesitates briefly before touching her hair and going for the hand. She sees him go at the walker hand, attempting to pry and break the walker off her… But it seems the decomposing flesh is sticking the hand firmly to her hair and she hisses when he tugs and ends up tugging her hair rather hard.

“Fuck,” he growls, glancing at her face before looking back at the end, easing his grip on it.

“Gonna have to cut it,” he says after looking at the hand for a few beats… And Beth’s stomach churns and drops.

Beth bites at her lower lip and hangs her head as much as she can, trying to hide her face from Daryl as he peaks at her. She knows it’s ridiculous to be this emotional over hair. It’ll grow back and she won’t even notice it was ever cut…

So why does the thought make her want to throw a fit and cry and demand that they find another way? Because she knows there’s nothing much that can be done. She can’t walk around with the walker's hand in her hair. It’ll just get caught on things and the smell will become ridiculous and the weight from it will give her headaches and-

And… And all that is still not enough to help how upset this makes her.

“Don’t got any scissors,” Beth mumbles and Daryl gives her a look before gently letting her hair fall back into her grip.

He doesn’t say anything as he goes to his bag and digs around before turning back with a pair of very nice looking barber scissors… And Beth remembers they had just had a decent run through the outlet stores and the hair salon and he must’ve grabbed those while they were searching. She’d seen the razors and the baldes he’d grabbed but had failed to notice these.

He comes back and holds them out to her but Beth shakes her head. There’s no way she’ll be able to do it herself. She just can’t bring herself to make the first cut without feeling like she’s going to cry or throw up over it.

“Can you do it?” she asks and Daryl gives her a startled look, gripping the scissors tighter.

“Never cut hair ‘fore…” he trails off, bringing his free hand up to bite at the skin around his nail and shifting.

“Neither have I… But I can’t…” Beth trails off, looking at him with as much pleading as she can muster, trying to tell him without telling him that she can’t do this on her own.

Daryl’s grip on the scissors tighten and loosen up before he gives a tight nod of agreement and Beth sighs a “thank you”. He’s looking at her warily as Beth slides around him and goes into the living room. He follows her and Beth takes a seat on the ground in front of the remaining loveseat, patting the cushion for him to sit on.

Slowly he comes over and takes a seat with Beth between his legs, plopping down hard and making the seat scoot a smidge before he’s sitting at the edge. Beth throws all her hair over her shoulder before looking over her shoulder and up at him with a lip wobbling smile before she gets her knife out. Carefully, Beth cuts her ponytail hair tie out. She hates to waste a good tie but at least she has others she found.

Beth’s hair carefully falls free as she goes to work on taking the braids out as best she can, some of them a little matted from not taking proper time to dry her hair the few times she has been able to wash up in a riverbank, having to throw her hair together while still damp and in a hurry.

Wishing for a hairbrush, Beth lets out a shuddering breath as she looks back at Daryl and nods for him to go ahead. He hesitates and Beth can tell he’s not comfortable with this, but she wasn’t lying when she said she just wouldn’t be able to do it on her own. She trusted Daryl, though. Skilled or not.

“Got an idea,” she heard him grumble before he shifted behind her and she glanced back to see him pulling his pocket knife out.

He gave her a look before opening the blade and motioning her to turn around. Beth did so and tensed as she felt Daryl gather her hair and go to the walker hand. Her breath was held tight as she felt and heard the first slice of a blade through her hair, closing her eyes and biting her lower lip as a long strand fell at her side where she could see it.

There were tugs and an occasional grunt and curse from Daryl, but all Beth could really hear was her heart beating blood into her ears, drowning pretty much everything out as she gripped her knees and waited until she heard a heavy thunk and opened her eyes in time to see the walker hand - still holding a clump of her hair - fall to the floor beside her.

Daryl stood up and grabbed the hand, his pocket knife in his hand as he went off to another room, leaving Beth sitting on the floor and resisting the urge to reach back and feel where the hand had been, knowing she wouldn’t feel the hair there and not quit ready for that.

Daryl returned quickly and looked at her, biting at his thumb and shifting back and forth, eyes staring intently at her before he comes to sit back down and gathers her hair, making Beth close her eyes as she feels him cutting at her locks.

There’s silence between them as she waits for him to finish, her initial unease easing a little as she realizes Daryl is taking his time and being very specific with his cuts. She knows a decent amount has been cut away - she can feel that when he lets her hair drop and notes the weight change. But she also notes it’s not as much as she feared it was, not seeing much more hair fall away.

Then he stops and Beth hears him put his knife away before he’s grabbing her hair… And Beth’s eyes widened because… Daryl starts to braid her hair?

“You don’t gotta do that, Daryl,” Beth tries to say as she looks over her shoulder but Daryl gently but firmly turns her head back before she can see him and grumbles at her to “hold still”.

So Beth holds still and waits, cheeks feeling red as Daryl takes his time working at her braid, feeling the intensity of his gaze on her as he works, the walkers meandering below and their steady breathing the only sound now as the sun begins to set outside and seals that this will be their shelter for the night.

It feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes before she remembers that Daryl will need something to tie off her hair. Using her foot, Beth is able to draw her bag closer and digs in it, trying not to jostle around as Drayl finishes up. She’s able to find a pack of hairbands and silently hands the pack to him

He takes it - his rough fingers brushing her hand - before she’s staying still, feeling him work at her hair and occasionally tug at her before he’s mumbling “okay” and letting her hair go.

“Pro’ly fucked it up…” he trails off as Beth turns her body to face him and gently reaches back to touch the long braided ponytail he had worked so carefully on… For her.

“It doesn’t feel like you did,” Beth replies after running her hand along the braid from base to tip, not able to note the length difference as much with it tied up like this. “Does it look okay?” 

He looks at her through the fringes of his hair, once again working at the skin around his nails and gives a shy shrug, looking down at his feet and mumbling incoherently and looking like a shy little boy and it makes Beth’s heart clinch with affection.

Standing, she pads quietly to the bathroom. It’s darker now and harder to see, but there’s still just enough light for her to see herself properly in the mirror… And the braids a little tighter against her scalp than she normally wears it and a little uneven… But it’s secure and the braiding is done in a sort of sailor style twist she’s never done before but kind of likes.

“It looks good… Can you teach me how to braid like this?” Beth asks as Daryl comes to the bathroom doorway, shrugging.

“Ain’t hard… Sure,” he answers and Beth can’t help but give him a grateful smile before she’s reacting without thinking and throwing her arms around him in a hug.

He stiffens up as he always does at any of her hugs or contacts, hands finding and cradling her elbows and Beth’s reminded of the first hug she gave him back at the prison and he’s just as warm as he was then and his smell is still as masculine as she remembers and it brings back a sort of better time that feels nice but also makes her sad.

She gently pulls back and looks up at him and he meets her gaze and she gives him another smile before she’s letting go carefully and holding the ponytail braid in her hands, gliding along the soft ridges and playing with the frayed end.

“Should finish securing this place… “ Daryl speaks up, breaking the silence that falls between them and Beth nods and tries not to feel disappointed the moment - whatever it was - is over.

“I’ll see if there's anything worth keeping, look around,” Beth offers and he nods quickly before he’s backing away and quickly putting space between them.

Beth sighs as he leaves her standing in the bathroom doorway. Beth takes a step back and takes a look in the mirror and turns to look at the braid better, a smile blooming across her face, cheeks pinking as she ducks to leave and go scavenging around their shelter for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Simple and cute shit is fun sometimes!


End file.
